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the mornings grow dark
Oct. 26th, 2012 10:37 amSummer may have finally ended, just in time for Halloween. I am glad for the cold. I need it right now.
Lately I can't remember what day things happen. This is probably because I've not been keeping any sort of journal, here or elsewhere. I'm heartsick and tired, from all the things this year. Some of the best and worst things have happened in the past six months. I feel guilty for feeling so sad, when arguably there are things to be happy about.
In a little while I'm going to drive a ridiculous number of hours to spend fifteen minutes in a doctor's office. They will take pictures of the scar on my chest, and I'll marvel at how different things are now. I can remember what it was like before, but it feels odd to look at the pictures of my chest. A bit like looking at someone else. A stranger's body.
The morning was cold and I didn't want to get out of bed. Especially after the cinematic dream my alarm disturbed. But I needed to deal with the rage and grief in the back of my mind. It was worth it in the end, dragging myself to kickboxing class where I threw myself into the work. I was dripping with sweat by the end.
Now I need to make a mix cd for the drive to San Antonio. Between the physical activity and the music, I hope to clear some of the noise in my head.
I need to spend more time writing. I have plans for stories.
Lately I can't remember what day things happen. This is probably because I've not been keeping any sort of journal, here or elsewhere. I'm heartsick and tired, from all the things this year. Some of the best and worst things have happened in the past six months. I feel guilty for feeling so sad, when arguably there are things to be happy about.
In a little while I'm going to drive a ridiculous number of hours to spend fifteen minutes in a doctor's office. They will take pictures of the scar on my chest, and I'll marvel at how different things are now. I can remember what it was like before, but it feels odd to look at the pictures of my chest. A bit like looking at someone else. A stranger's body.
The morning was cold and I didn't want to get out of bed. Especially after the cinematic dream my alarm disturbed. But I needed to deal with the rage and grief in the back of my mind. It was worth it in the end, dragging myself to kickboxing class where I threw myself into the work. I was dripping with sweat by the end.
Now I need to make a mix cd for the drive to San Antonio. Between the physical activity and the music, I hope to clear some of the noise in my head.
I need to spend more time writing. I have plans for stories.